Dream Encounters
by reooeky
Summary: Spock wants Kirk. Kirk isn't acting like himself. Now with fewer spelling mistakes! M/M lang sex
1. Prologue: Kirk

I have come back from the dead... and this time with a Star Trek story. Huzzah! (sp?)

Okie-dokie... so this will be a Spirk story, and it is based a little (ok, a lot) off of a manga I read, called "Sex Pistols". For anyone who has read that manga, it will become obvious which part I used as inspiration very quickly. It won't be totally obvious until the second pair of chapters, but after reading the first pair over, I found that there are some hints in the first Kirk chapter.

So if you haven't figured it out from my previous comments, the chapters come in pairs. I'll write both chapters before posting either of them, because they are basically the same thing from different points of view. From what I have in mind, Spock's chapters will probably be longer than Kirk's, and by the end of the story, the pairs of chapters may end up just being one chapter.

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), past-Spock/Uhura (mentioned), Scotty/Chekov (minor), Kirk/some random, nameless chicks

**Warnings:** Gay sex; lots of it, almost every chapter (hells yeah!). In this chapter, there will be a mentions of het sex, mainly because I felt the need to include some sexy ladies (sorry, I is a total perv). And there will probably be quite a bit of OOC, because this is the new movie, and Kirk and Spock aren't all over each other like they are in the original series.

And FYI, there will be no Uhura bashing, because the new Uhura is totally sexy and generally just an awesome girl.

Viva la Sprik!

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Prologue: Kirk_

* * *

Captain James T. Kirk sighed—half in contentment, half in irritation—as he threw himself down into his over-sized command chair. The feeling of power he got from knowing that he was in command of a large, beautiful star ship, the_ USS Enterprise_, was almost euphoric, (Yes, he was on a bit of a power trip, and he was fully aware of this fact, but he would be the absolute last person to admit it; he had plenty of people telling him daily what an arrogant prick he was, and he did not feel the need to join their ranks.) but he was not looking forward to the five-year mission that the _Enterprise_ was to embark on in a matter of hours.

Kirk had only led the _Enterprise_ in several missions so far, and they had each lasted less than a week. However, in rapid succession, the missions proved to be quite exhausting, especially because he had not been given enough time to totally recover his energy after the catastrophe with Nero. The crew had been given three weeks shore leave after the completion of their missions, but it was now over, and the time they had been given seemed all too short.

And what a shore leave it had been...

He had, of course, visited his mother, but after about a week, he had eagerly left for New Orleans and Bourbon Street to do what he did best: drink and have sex. A vision of the girls he had spent the remaining weeks of his leave with was clear in his mind. One girl had been all supple curves, with skin of the deepest ebony, the other a fairy-like blond with pale skin and thick, lustrous hair flowing down nearly to her knees. And they had been even more beautiful writhing against each other as he pleasured them with his mouth and hands. The two had been so incredible that he hadn't had to go seek out other partners for the remainder of his leave. The dark-skinned girl had been adventurous and blatant in her sexuality, willing to do nearly anything once, and as a result, many a fantasy of Kirk's had been fulfilled. And the petite blond, to his surprise (and great pleasure) had been desperate for the roughest, dirtiest fucking he could provide her with; never in his life had Kirk met a woman more enthusiastic about anal sex.

But even with those pleasurable memories, Kirk still felt that of something within himself was amiss. He could not, for the life of him, remember the girls' names. This was highly unusual, considering the amount of time that that the had spent together and the fact that Kirk always remembered the names of the girls that he bedded, with the exception of when he was drunk to the point that he could not remember the events of the previous night, and Kirk was positive that he had been (at least partially-) sober for the majority of the time he had been with the two. And besides that, he had also apparently lost interest in his long-time fantasy, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura. (He only knew her first name because he had heard his First Officer, Spock, call her by it. He had no doubt that he would still be without that bit of knowledge had he not had a tendency to listen in on any conversations taking place in his immediate vicinity.) He had not even taken the chance to get her on rebound (Kirk was above _almost_ nothing when it came to getting a woman he wanted.) after she and Spock had terminated their romantic relationship only a week after the defeat of Nero. (Luckily for everyone on the _Enterprise_, their parting had been peaceful and friendly, though Kirk would still have given an arm and a leg to know exactly what had happened between them.) Kirk knew that he still found her _attractive_, but he was not longer _attracted to_ her. In fact, he hadn't truly been attracted to any woman in what had probably been months. Kirk was definitely not feeling like himself. Maybe a trip to see Bones in the Med Bay was in order. But Kirk was quick to remember the horror that was the good doctor gone hypo-happy.

_That idea is definitely out!_

So Kirk decided to just sit back, so to speak, and let things sort themselves out. He would have to go back to being his old, skirt-chasing self eventually, right?

* * *

There it be! The next chapter will be a bit of an intro for Mr. Spock.

Until next time, my pretties!


	2. Prologue: Spock

Here is the second chapter in the first pair.

**Pairings: **Kirk/Spock (major), past-Spock/Uhura (mentioned), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** none, this chapter is quite tame

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Prologue: Spock_

* * *

Commander Spock was happy—at least as happy as was possible for a Vulcan—to be back on the _USS Enterprise_. Somehow, in his short time aboard the star ship, the _Enterprise_ had become "home." This feeling may have been, in part, a result of the Mind Meld he had shared with his alternate self during the shore leave.

After the _Enterprise_ had docked on Earth, Spock had immediately taken a private shuttle to the planet that housed the new Vulcan colony. He was still devastated by the loss of his mother and his home planet, but he saw that much progress had already been made in building a new home for the Vulcan people, and he was in awe of his people's ability to persevere. His father and and his alternate self had quickly taken charge of organizing the building efforts, and already, all the individual homes and several public facilities had been erected.

Spock spent most of his visit with his father, discussing what was to come for himself and for the rest of the surviving Vulcans, and in their own silent, reserved way, helped each other cope with the still-fresh pain of their loss. However, he did spend some time with his alternate self, listening carefully to the advice the more experienced man gave him for running an enormous star ship and generally satisfied his curiosity about the life he would have lived if not for Nero. His alternate self could have told him about his life on the _Enterprise_, but, with Spock's permission, he instead used a Mind Meld, asserting that he could never fully explain his experiences with "mere words."

So Spock watched the memories, experiencing years of thought and emotion in only minutes. He saw Doctor Leonard McCoy, still the jaded, bitter man that he himself knew, arguing with him, and felt that despite all the anger and irritation between them, they were friends—good friends, even. He saw himself engaged in deep discussions with Commander Montgomery Scott and Ensign Pavel Chekov, felt the satisfaction and happiness of being able to connect with intelligent, somewhat like-minded individuals, and the waves of friendly tenderness that would overtake him whenever they would weave their fingers together, sharing secret smiles, and even kisses, when they believed no one was looking. (This came as a complete surprise to Spock, and he made a mental note to observe the two men in his time and find out if they shared a relationship similar to that of their alternate selves.) And he saw Kirk—no, he saw Jim: Jim fighting beside him, for him, against him; Jim talking with him; Jim playing chess with him; Jim holding him, kissing him, _making love_ to him. And he finally understood just what Captain James T. Kirk had been to his alternate self: his T'hyla. And he realized that he wanted that same relationship in his own time. In fact, this desire of his had been one of the things that had brought an end to the relationship between himself and Lieutenant Nyota Uhura.

Spock had been attracted to Kirk since their first encounter at the Kobayashi Maru hearing, though he had not become aware of it until, much to his embarrassment (even though Vulcans do not get embarrassed), Nyota had had to tell him what she had been observing in his behavior. But she was not angry with him; in fact, she was kind and supportive. They had both agreed that, while they loved each other to some extent, their feelings for each other were more friendly than romantic, as they had first believed them to be. (And both had to admit that there was nearly no chemistry between them, a death sentence for any romantic or physical relationship.) Thus, "Spock and Nyota: 'the couple'" became "Spock and Nyota: 'just friends.'" The split had been easy and painless, the two falling naturally back into their previous friendship. And so, when Nyota kissed him good-bye before departing on her own shuttle to visit family in Africa, it was on the cheek, an affectionate display between two close friends.

The final few days of his leave, Spock reunited with Nyota at the academy, spending time together to discuss their respective trips and generally enjoy each other's presence. He told her about his alternate self—he trusted her completely, and felt that she deserved to know about such an import factor in his life—and what he had learned about his other life. He told her of his hopes for a relationship with his Kirk (When Kirk had become _his_ was completely beyond Spock.), and she listened intently to everything he had to say. She assured him that it was not an unattainable dream; the crew had somehow all come together a second time under completely different circumstances, so it must have been their destiny to have the same kind of relationship.

Spock did not believe in destiny, but he could not help but hope.

* * *

So that's the first pair. The next pair is where the action *wink, wink*, and Spock generally being angsty, begins.

I'll try and get the next chapters out as soon as possible... maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after that, but I promise: it will be SOON!

I'm out, y'all. Ta-ta!


	3. Dream One: Kirk

I actually got finished with this chapter pretty quickly. However, it was difficult to write naughty things while watching "Monsters, Inc." I am soooooo fucked up!

**Warnings: **I have for you, today, a cup of sexual content with a pinch of foul language.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Dream One: Kirk_

* * *

_Hands. Hot, slender hands. They were lightly cupping his face, the fingers caressing his cheeks and jaw with feather-light touches. One hand lifted, and a single finger traced a line from his brow to his mouth, stopping there to stroke his bottom lip. Kirk sucked the finger into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. He felt the hands on his face tremble._

_Before he even had time to register what was happening, he was dragged across the room and pushed down onto a firm bed. Then lips were on his, and he eagerly pressed back into the touch, pushing his tongue between the warm, soft lips and easily taking control of the kiss. The silky tongue pressed against his, and he felt the vibrations of a moan go through his mouth._

_Suddenly Kirk was being divested of his clothing, the hot-as-a-furnace hands stroking down his chest, fingernails raking gently over his nipples, which hardened instantly._

_By this time, his pants had become extremely tight and uncomfortable. He let out a sigh of relief as the tie on his sleeping pants was undone and the pants were dragged down and off his legs. The long, delicate fingers sketched a path up his leg, finally stopping a few inches from his groin._

_A timid hand wrapped loosely around his straining cock, giving an experimental stroke. He moaned, and the hand around his erection tightened, the other hand coming up to cup his balls and gently roll them in their sac. He let out another appreciative groan as the full, supple lips descended on his again, this kiss more confident and passionate than the first. As the kiss continued and Kirk's tongue meshed with the other, the hands never ceased their ministrations._

_More quickly than he would have liked, he came, hard, and he was forced back into the world of consciousness._

Kirk gasped as he sat up in his bed. He peeled the thin regulation blanket off of his sweaty legs and looked down at himself. His pajamas were rumpled from his movements during the night, but to his surprise, there was no tell-tail stain that was the usual evidence of such an erotic dream.

_Well, no mess to clean up._

Kirk threw his legs over the side of his bed and walked into the attached bathroom to relieve himself and take a sonic shower. He finished quickly, and after stepping out of the stall and toweling off, he went to his room to get dressed. He pulled on his uniform trousers and shirt. As he was pulling on his socks and boots, he glanced over at the chronometer on his bedside table. It read 0630.

_Fuck! I'm late!_

He ran out of his room, still holding one boot in his hand as he careened down the hall toward the turbolift. As he turned a corner, he smacked into another person, falling back and landing flat on his ass.

"How kind of you to shorten my trip, Captain. I had almost believed that you intended to skip out on your duties entirely."

Kirk looked up at the stoic face of his First Officer, and, seeing that Spock had no intention of helping him up (_Probably something to do with that whole "Vulcans don't do touching" thing._), he pushed himself up off the floor, gingerly rubbing his now-sore rear.

"Hey, I'm only a half hour late," he quipped.

"I believe the more accurate approximation would be 33.524 minutes, Captain."

"Whatever," Kirk whispered under his breath. Pulling on his boot, he brushed past Spock to enter the turbolift. "C'mon, Mr. Spock. You came to get me right? Well, you got me, so let's go."

Letting out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, Spock stepped into the turbolift beside Kirk and instructed it to take them to the Bridge.

"May I ask you, Captain, why you are late this morning?" Spock inquired tonelessly.

"Well," Kirk replied, "I just slept through my alarm."

"What could have made you so exhausted, sir?" Spock asked, almost sounding like he already knew the answer.

"It was probably dealing with that Charlie kid," Kirk said with a small shrug.

"Ah, of course." Spock sounded disappointed.

_Nah. I'm just imagining things._

The turbo lift came to a stop, and the two stepped out onto the Bridge.

* * *

Yay for references to TOS! That Charlie X sure was one creepy kid...

Next chapter will be all this from Spock's perspective and more.

So, good-bye for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow.... (OK, I've had my cliché moment for today.)


	4. Encounter One: Spock

Okay you guys, this is the single longest chapter I have written in my short life! And the sexy stuff takes up almost half of that! I say God _damn_!

Anyway, I told you the Spock chapters would be longer, didn't I? Probably because I love his scrawny, pointy-eared, green-blooded (favorite color, bitches!) ass.

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings: **Bad words are minimal, but inappropriate content is maximal.

**A few things:** stuff I will point out now because I'm straying from canon some

In this story, Vulcans have no body hair because I hate, _hate_, _HATE_ body hair. (Must be why I prefer women... seems logical to me...)

I'm going to assume that full Vulcans only have sexual urges during Pon Farr (those poor, repressed bastards...), but because Spock is half human, he can have sexual urges outside of Pon Farr (which if I feel the urge, may be a part of this story... who knows...)

nothing else, really

So now I give you the chapter that took forever to write and will probably take even longer to type, and spell check, and format, and...

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Encounter One: Spock_

* * *

Spock did not look it, but he was extremely relieved at the departure of the boy named Charlie. He had been a danger to the entire ship, but more importantly (by his standards), he had been a danger to Jim. (Yes, in his own mind, Spock called Captain Kirk "Jim"; it only seemed logical considering his feelings for the other man.) He was glad to be back to doing his usual duties without having to worry about an immediate threat.

As Spock sat at his science station on the Bridge, cataloging the chemical makeup of a nearby star system, Jim came up behind him, leaning over his chair with an arm on either side, effectively caging him. As Jim spoke, his cool (by Vulcan standards) breath ghosted over Spock's pointed ears, and much to his embarrassment, he felt the tips blush bright green. Luckily, Jim did not seem to notice.

"So," Jim began, "anything new, strange, or, as you would say, 'fascinating'?"

Spock shook his head, noticing just how close he and Jim were at the moment when the shell of his ear brushed against Jim's lips. Again, the human took no notice.

"Negative, Captain," he replied, relieved that he was able to keep his voice from wavering. When Jim did not move away, he asked: "Is there anything else you wanted, sir, or do you just take pleasure in invading other individuals' personal space?"

"Why, was that a joke, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked with a small chuckle. He lifted one hand to give Spock a friendly pat on the shoulder, laughing again when Spock stiffened under his touch. "Well, I'm gonna go check on Bones. You have the conn while I'm gone, Commander."

As Jim stepped away from the science station, the fingers of the hand still on the controls brushed lightly against Spock's. He, again, did not seem to notice the contact, but Spock certainly did, and he could not stop the gasp from escaping his throat, his eyes widening slightly.

Jim stepped into the turbolift and Spock walked over to sit in the command chair, glancing at Nyota and seeing that she had, indeed, observed the brief exchange from her station. A quirk of her lips and a small shrug of her shoulders told him that she, too, was unsure of whether the small touch had been deliberate or accidental.

Nyota turned back to the communications station and Spock sat back in the chair. He pondered the fleeting touch of Jim's fingers to his own, and what he had felt from it. Oddly enough, he had felt a strange discontent that he knew was not his own. What could possibly be causing his Captain to feel that way?

3 3 3

Spock was standing by the closet in his quarters, reaching for his black meditation robes, when the door-chime suddenly rang. Closing the closet, Spock swiftly walked over to the door, wondering who would be calling on him at such a late hour. To his great surprise, the door stood open to reveal Jim standing casually outside, dressed in what were obviously his sleep clothes.

"Captain, is there anything you require of me at this moment?" Spock inquired, becoming more and more confused as an odd expression flashed across Jim's face.

"Well," Jim drawled, "there_ are_ a few things I _require_."

As Jim stepped toward Spock in an almost predatory manner, Spock unconsciously took a step back, a choked gasp leaving his mouth as one of Jim's hands reached out to slowly stroke his fingers. This time, the touch was _definitely_ intentional. He finally understood what the emotion darkening Jim's eyes was: lust. He could feel the pure desire bleeding through the Vulcan kiss.

Jim stopped his advancing and Spock stepped toward him, placing his hands on Jim's face, staring at him, awed by the intense want that he now knew Jim felt for him. Spock let a small smile lift the corners of his mouth as he stroked the beautifully tanned cheeks under his fingers. When Jim let out a happy sigh, Spock lifted a hand and ran a finger over the elegant brow, the straight nose, and finally traced the curves of the perfect lips.

Spock moaned in surprised delight when Jim drew the finger into his mouth and licked the tip. His penis began to harden. Jim's mouth was cool and wet and _wonderful_ around one of the most sensitive parts of his anatomy.

Letting out a low growl, Spock dragged Jim over to his bed and forced him down onto his back. Lowering himself to his hands and knees above Jim, Spock looked at the gorgeous man below him. He leaned down to shyly press his lips against Jim's, still not sure of himself even after the several kisses he had shared with Nyota. So, when Jim pressed back into the touch and shoved his tongue between his lips, Spock gladly surrendered control of the kiss, just pushing back slightly on the tongue invading his mouth with his own. He moaned into Jim's mouth, enjoying the contact immensely.

Reluctantly, Spock broke the kiss so he could remove Jim's shirt. He ran his hands reverently over the defined muscles of Jim's chest and abdomen, scratching the lovely pink nipples lightly and watching in rapt fascination as they hardened under his ministrations.

Looking down Jim's body, he saw the erection straining against his pajama pants. Reaching down to undo the tie at the waistband, Spock pulled the bottoms off of Jim and watched his engorged penis bounce into the open air. Tracing patterns with his fingers from Jim's ankles and up his legs, he made mental notes of the differences between the human and Vulcan male genitals.

Besides the obvious color difference, he noticed that there was coarse, curly hair surrounding the base of the shaft and lightly covering the scrotum. He observed that Jim's penis was only longer than the average human male's by an inch or two, which was still shorter than the average length of a Vulcan's, but it was very thick, much larger around than he knew was the norm for a human _or_ a Vulcan. Fascinated, he reached out his hand to lightly caress the mushroomed head (different than the Vulcan double ridges) and loosely wrap his fingers around the shaft. As he gave a tentative stroke, he noticed how good—how _natural—_Jim's penis felt in his hand. Hearing Jim's throaty moan, he tightened his grip, stroking harder and lightly grasping the testicles, squeezing and rolling them in their sac. Leaning down to kiss Jim again, Spock quickened his strokes, becoming even more aroused with every sound Jim made.

When Jim finally climaxed, the combination of his moans, the pleasure seeping through the connections of their skin, and the feeling of warm semen flowing over his sensitive hands brought Spock to his own release. Bringing his soiled hand up to his face, he looked at the sticky, white substance, sniffing it, and finally bringing a finger to his mouth to taste it. (Purely in the name of discovery, of course.) He moaned at the salty taste, licking his hand clean. (His natural instinct, having been raised on a desert planet, was to conserve water, so the taste of excess salt was innately appealing to him. The extra stimulation to his fingers was also a benefit of his actions.) He looked up from his work when he heard Jim moan, seeing him staring back with glazed eyes and slightly parted lips.

"That," Jim husked, "is by far the most arousing thing I have ever seen!"

Spock turned his head away to hide the deep blush and the small smile blooming on his face, wiping Jim's groin clean with his already-soiled sleeping robe, removing it from his person before walking over to the closet to retrieve a fresh one. When he returned to the bed, he saw that Jim had redressed himself, and was patting the bed beside him, indicating that Spock should lie down with him. Spock took his place next to Jim and put his head in the junction connecting his neck and broad shoulder, letting himself drift into a deep sleep.

3 3 3

Waking up, Spock found the bed beside him empty and cold. Briefly, hurt threatened to take charge, but he quickly deduced that Jim must have left sometime during the night as not to raise suspicions by being seen exiting his First Officer's quarters in the morning. Besides, his room was set at at temperature that was suitable for a Vulcan, but far too hot for a human; it would be illogical for Jim to risk a heat stroke just to stay with him a few more hours.

So, Spock showered and donned his uniform, arriving on the Bridge at 0530, exactly a half hour before the beginning of his shift so he could look over his data from the previous day. By 0600, the rest of the Bridge crew had trickled in one by one, taking their posts; everyone, that is, except the Captain.

Spock took command while he waited for Jim to arrive, but when he was still absent at 0630, he put Nyota in charge so he could go hunt for Jim.

Stepping out of the turbolift at the level that housed the personal quarters, Spock walked down the hall in the direction of Jim's room. As he approached a turn, someone ran around the corner and slammed into him. While he was able to keep his balance, the other person was not, and they fell back on their rear.

Looking down to see Jim trying to recover from his fall, one boot still not on, he said: "How kind of you to join me, Captain. I had almost believed that you intended to skip out on your duties entirely."

Turning his face up to Spock's, Jim looked indignant.

"Hey, I'm only a half hour late!"

"I believe the more accurate approximation would be 33.524 minutes, Captain."

"Whatever," Spock heard Jim whisper. Spock raised one elegant brow. Jim brushed past him to get to the turbolift.

Turning to Spock, he said: "C'mon, Mr. Spock. You came to get me, right? Well, you got me, so let's go."

Sighing, Spock stepped into the turbolift beside Jim.

"Bridge," he instructed in a monotone.

"May I ask you, Captain, why you are late this morning?" Spock already knew what the answer would be.

"Well, I just slept through my alarm."

"What could have made you so exhausted, sir?" he asked, having difficulty hiding his amusement and anticipation. He couldn't wait to he the words form Kirks mouth.

"It was probably dealing with that Charlie kid."

Spock's heart dropped.

"Ah, of course," he replied, trying to disguise the hurt and disappointment in his voice.

3 3 3

"Would you accompany me to one of the observation decks for the afternoon meal, Lieutenant?" Spock asked Nyota. "I would very much like to speak with you."

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Spock," she said with a grin. Her smile quickly dropped into a frown when she saw no hint of a returned smile on his lips or in his eyes. "Oh, Spock! What's wrong?"

"In a moment," he instructed her. "I would like privacy for our conversation."

Nyota just nodded and followed him into the turbolift, stepping out moments later to get to Observation Deck 13. While she had the replicator make two bowls of lentil soup, Spock locked the door, not wanting anyone to come in and overhear what he was about to tell Nyota. She set the two bowls on the small table near the large window.

Once they both had sat down, she asked: "Now, will you finally tell me what happened? I'm beginning to worry, here."

"You are aware of my feelings for the Captain."

"Yes."

"He came to my quarters last night."

"You didn't--!"

"Of course I did nothing as rash as to outright engage in sexual intercourse with him. We did, however, have relations to a certain extent." He felt no embarrassment admitting this to her.

He could see that she was confused now.

"How is that a bad thing? That's exactly what you've wanted for a while now."

"He left, afterwards, while I was asleep."

"He _LEFT_? That son of a--!"

"No, no. That seemed a logical course of action to avoid creating suspicions among the crew and to avoid overheating in my quarters. The problem is that, this morning, when I went to retrieve him, he did not acknowledge that anything had taken place between us, even though we were completely alone at the time."

"That's absolutely awful!" she cried, anger burning in her eyes. "Did he give you any hints at all that he knew what had happened?"

"Negative."

"Then... what if—what if he doesn't remember what happened. It could have been a bit like he was sleep walking, you know?"

"But he did speak with me briefly."

"Still, this makes sense. I think he must be acting on a subconscious desire that he either doesn't know about or refuses to acknowledge. His hand brushing against yours yesterday was probably acting out that desire as well."

"A very logical theory, Nyota, but by no means a comforting one. There is a fifty-fifty chance that he does not _want_ to want me, and this thought hurts me deeply."

"I can understand that. But what if he comes to you again?" she inquired. "What would you do? You have two options: turn him away, or take what he can offer you."

"I am afraid, Nyota," Spock replied, "that I am very weak where Jim Kirk is involved. I would most likely use his subconscious desires to satisfy my wants, whether or not it is what he really wants."

* * *

There it is! Long and angsty and, in my opinion, way better than the last chapter.

So, you guys get what's happening now? I hope so, or I must be awful at explaining shit!

I'm out, bitches!


	5. Dream Two: Kirk

Sorry this has taken so much longer than the others, but I've been dealing with a very recent family tragedy, and I haven't really felt like doing anything at all.

Anyway, this chapter is kind of a smoosh-up of the ideas I had for two chapters. The parts would have been separate if it wouldn't be so drawn out, and I don't want to strain my brain to figure out more stuff to go around the smexy parts, because than the plot would probably just implode.

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings: **Sex (like, for realz this time) and cussin'. All the good stuff.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Dream Two: Kirk_

* * *

_What the fuck is up with everyone? _Kirk screamed in his mind.

He thought that he had buried the hatchet with Uhura months ago. Apparently, he had thought wrong. She was even meaner to him than she had been before, making more sarcastic remarks, sending him more glares, and in general doing more of everything with which she had shown her dislike for him in their first few years of their acquaintance. The worst part was, he did not even know what he had done wrong.

And Kirk had also thought that he and Spock had come to some sort of understanding, on the border of actually becoming friends, but a few weeks ago, he had withdrawn himself almost completely. He now seemed, to Kirk, every bit the Vulcan that he had once—and probably still—aspired to be. Kirk had to wonder what had caused Spock to retreat back behind his cool, calculating mask.

Now that he thought about it... Spock and Uhura had started acting coldly toward him at the same time. Okay, so they were both probably mad at him for the same reason, but he still had no clue what that reason could be.

Bones had noticed their behavior, too, because he always seemed to be right next to Kirk, ready to defend him from any verbal (or even physical, if the fire in Uhura's eyes was anything to go by) attack. What was he, five? He was perfectly capable of standing up for himself. None the less, he was happy to know that his friend cared for him (even if he did not show it most of the time).

After a couple weeks of this, Kirk was far beyond fed up with their behavior. He decided that he would confront Uhura, because Spock was sure to be far more tight-lipped than she was.

He was finally able to catch her a couple of days later walking out of the mess hall.

"Lieutenant, I need to speak with you."

"About what?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Please," Kirk said softly, changing his plan of attack, "I just need to know what I've done to you so that we can work this out."

"There's nothing for _us_ to discuss, Captain. The problem is not what you've done to me, it's what you've done to Spock," she said, turning on her heel and walking briskly away from him.

Kirk was left in the middle of the mess hall, even more confused than he had been before.

_Kirk was in the same room as he had been in his dream a few weeks before, being kissed by the same person. Their clothes had already been removed, and they were kneeling on the bed._

_Kirk moved back toward the head of the bed to rest against the pillows, letting the other person come forward to kneel between his legs. Then the kiss became more urgent, and fingers __began running through his hair, occasionally tugging or lightly scratching his scalp. Kirk ran his hands down their back, finally grabbing the firm ass and massaging the cheeks with his fingers. The other person moaned, ending the kiss._

_They licked down Kirks neck, stopping at his collar bone to leave a small bruise before continuing down his chest. Each of his nipples were licked and sucked before the mouth continued a trail of kisses down his stomach, stopping at one of his hip bones, seeming unsure of what to do next. Kirk ran his hand through the short, silky hair, leading their head toward his cock. Hesitantly, the person reached out their tongue to lick up and down the shaft, sucking lightly at the base._

_Finally, they took the head of Kirks member into their mouth, licking the slit and sucking. They took a bit more of the shaft into their mouth, and Kirk moaned in surprise as he was suddenly engulfed completely in the inhumanly hot mouth. Now, Kirk did not like to brag (an obvious lie, and he knew it), but he was on the large side, so he was completely awed when he was taken in so easily. He tangled his fingers in the short hair, guiding the head up and down until they continued bobbing up and down on his dick on their own. When he was deed-throated again, and they swallowed around the head, it was too much for him, and he came. They swallowed it all._

_When he finally recovered from his powerful orgasm, Kirk was being kissed again, and he could taste himself on the other person's tongue. He reached out one hand to find his pants, finally pulling a condom and a small tube of lube out of the pocket, stoking himself back to hardness with the other. Rolling on the condom, he slicked himself with the lube before beginning to prepare that firm, perfect ass for him to enter._

_Sliding his fingers between the cheeks, he found the puckered entrance and pushed one lubed finger inside. The tight ring of muscle relaxed almost instantly, and he thrust the finger in and out a few times before adding a second. Meeting no resistance, he added a third finger, thrusting them into the tight channel and corkscrewing them inside to stretch it more. By the time he pulled his fingers out, his partner was gasping and moaning in ecstasy._

_Kirk lied back on the bed, positioning the other person's ass over his cock, aligning the head with the entrance when they finally sat back on him. Kirk's dick was encased in the hottest, tightest passage he had ever had the pleasure of fucking. He heard a tiny whimper of pain, but they adjusted to his size quickly, beginning to move their hips up and down in a steady rhythm, putting their hands on his chest to get more leverage. As the pace became faster and more uneven, he felt fingernails leaving long scratches on his chest, but he didn't care; Kirk didn't mind a bit of pain with his pleasure. Then the passage tightened around him like a red-hot vice, and his world dissolved in to white light._

When Kirk woke up the next morning, he was in a fantastic mood. Looking down at himself, he noticed that he was still in uniform, on top of the blanket and surrounded by PADDs. He realized that he must have fallen asleep while doing "paper work." (Somehow, this did not come as a surprise to him.) Upon further inspection, he found that he was once again free of conspicuous stains despite his dream. (_Hope nothin' down there's broken..._)

Seeing that he had woken up before his alarm had even gone off, Kirk set about his morning routine at a leisurely pace. After taking a shower (a real one, with water and everything), he stood before the mirror brushing his teeth when he noticed something odd: there was a hickey on his collar bone and angry red scratch marks on his chest. It was just like in his dream.

Now Kirk was really confused. Either he had done that to himself, or he had actually had sex last night. Assuming that he had, in fact, gotten laid, he would have to find the girl, because... god_damn _she had been good!

Stepping onto the Bridge just barely on time, Kirk looked around at each station. Everyone was there and already hard at work except... Spock! That came as a huge surprise to Kirk. He knew Spock was always at his station long before Kirk even woke up. Why was he not here now? Was he sick or something? Kirk did, after all, have a responsibility to know about the health of his crew.

Several minutes later, the turbo lift finally opened to reveal Spock, and he walked out (though Kirk noticed he was moving more slowly and carefully than he usually did). He sat down (again, far more carefully than what seemed necessary), sharing a look with Uhura before going about his work as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Despite Spock acting like everything was normal, Kirk was a bit worried about him (and apparently so was the rest of the Bridge crew, who kept looking over their shoulders at him). Spock was _never_ late.

Was this somehow his fault, like Uhura had implied in their conversation yesterday?

_What the hell did I DO?_

* * *

There ya go... next is Spock again, and it's just a few more chapters before the shit _really_ hits the fan. That's right, there is some semblance of a plot in this story, complete with a conflict and a resolution!

I shall see you all again soon, my dearies.


	6. Encounter Two: Spock

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** Sex (seriously, there is almost no plot in this chappy, only sex)

FYI, in this story, Spock knows, like, nothing about the actual sex act, especially between 2 men because I find that hilarious. And he is also kind of pathetic and mopey in this chapter, even though I think he's awesome.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Encounter Two: Spock_

* * *

For the next couple weeks after his night with Jim, Spock retreated back into himself. He accepted Nyota's silent support during their shifts, and whenever he was off duty, he would listen to whatever she had to say while working on recreational research; he did not want to talk himself, but he did not want to spend time alone other than when he was meditating or sleeping. He knew that his increased silence was damaging the tentative friendship he had been forming with Jim, but he could not bring himself to talk to him or spend time with him casually.

He was unhappy to see Nyota at odds with Jim, and by extension, Doctor McCoy, but he knew there was nothing _he _do to allay her anger. He was further saddened by her unwillingness to "give him a little slack," as the old human saying went, even after Jim tried to reconcile with her.

" He should be talking to you, not me, and I told him as much," she had told him.

Now sitting at his desk, he filled out some of the PADDs that the other scientists needed for the documentation of their experiments. It was tedious work, and while he would never (_never_) admit it, he was quickly becoming bored. When the door-chime rang, it was all he could do not to jump up and run to the door.

The door slid open, and he let out a nearly inaudible gasp as he saw Jim, once again standing in the hallway outside of his room.

"Captain?" He was ashamed when his voice came out slightly breathy.

" Haven't I told you before? When we're not on the Bridge, you can call me Jim," he said, almost scolding Spock as he would a small child.

"Alright, Jim," Spock said, letting the corners of his mouth raise just he slightest bit. He knew exactly why Jim was here, and as he had told Nyota weeks before, he would take whatever he could get; if his emotional needs (Oh, what would his father say if he knew Spock was thinking in such an illogical manner?), he could at the very least satisfy his sexual needs.

Spock reached out his hand, sighing contentedly when Jim interlaced their fingers, leading him into the room.

Jim gave Spock a quick, chaste kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Well," he said, his voice becoming deep and sensual with desire, "strip for me."

"Excuse me?" Spock asked, confused by Jim's use of human slang.

"You know, undress for me. Make it sexy."

"I do not understand how the manner in which I remove my clothing could be more, as you say, 'sexy,' than another."

"Just hop to it. I need to see all of you,"

"As you wish," Spock said, pulling up the hem of his shirt. As he lifted the garment, he let his fingers lightly run over his torso, looking to see Jim's reaction after it was up and over his head. His action had obviously pleased Jim, because his normally bright blue eyes were darkened with lust. Spock paused with his hands at the fastening of his slacks, becoming self-conscious under Jim's intense gaze.

"C'mon," Jim coaxed, "you're absolutely gorgeous. Now take those pants off before I rip them off of you."

Spock blushed heavily as the mental images assaulted him, quickly undoing the snap and zipper, toeing off his boots and socks before letting the trousers fall to pool around his ankles. Stepping out of the pants, Spock was left standing before Jim in nothing but his regulation briefs.

"That's more like it," Jim purred, pulling Spock toward him by the waistband of his underwear. Then, without warning, Jim literally ripped the briefs off of him, exposing his hardening penis to the cool air. Jim smiled lecherously. "Well, what have we here?"

Spock thought the question illogical, as Jim obviously knew what he was seeing. However, he said nothing, suspecting that Jim simply liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

Jim grasped Spock's penis and gave it a few quick strokes before shuffling farther up the bed on his knees, making quick work of his clothing and pulling Spock down next to him for a passionate kiss. Spock urged him to lean against the pillow at the head of the bed so he could kneel between his legs. Not once was the kiss broken, Spock grabbing Jim lightly by the hair to pull him deeper into the touch. As a response, Jim massaged his back and buttocks; Spock could not help but moan.

Now intent on exploration, Spock released Jim's lips to run his tongue down his neck, tasting his skin. He bit at Jim's collar bone, leaving a mark. (Though he refused to admit it to himself, he was placing his claim on Jim, hoping that the resulting bruise would make Jim remember what had happened this time.) He continued downward, licking and sucking the exotic pink nipples in to hard peaks. He kissed and nipped a path down Jim's defined abdominals, avoiding his groin and instead going to one of his hip bones. He hesitated. He was completely inexperienced, and he did not know how to proceed. So when Jim guided his head toward his erect penis, he offered no resistance.

Through the connection of Jim's fingers to his scalp and neck, Spock could vaguely feel what Jim wanted him to do, so he licked up and down the shaft. Encouraged by the pleasure he felt through the connection, he placed an open-mouthed kiss at the base of the shaft before lifting his head to take the tip into his mouth. He sucked lightly, licking up as much of the salty liquid being excreted from the slit as he could before lowering his head to take in more of the shaft. Relaxing the muscles in his throat completely, Spock lowered his head until his nose was buried in the musky pubic hair.

"Fuck, that's amazing," Jim said after releasing a deep groan. "You're great, a fuckin' natural."

As a Vulcan, Spock saw nothing special about being able to control all of his muscles so easily. He stayed down with Jim's penis completely filling his mouth and throat until Jim tangled his fingers in his hair to guide his mouth up and down the shaft as he sucked and licked. Spock let Jim set the pace for a few minutes before lowering his head completely again, swallowing around Jim's erection and groaning in satisfaction as salty ejaculate flooded his mouth. He made sure to swallow all of it before he finally released Jim from his mouth.

Jim pulled Spock's head up to his, pushing his lips hard against Spock's and thrust his tongue into the hot oral cavity. He petted Spock's hair, running his other hand lightly down his chest toward his now fully erect penis. Finally taking a hold of the hard shaft, Jim gasped into Spock's mouth. Breaking the kiss, he said: "Good God, man! Where have you been hiding this thing? Most of the men on this ship would be jealous."

"I do not understand," Spock said after a moment. "Does the size of one's penis hold a degree of significance for human males?"

"Well, it's _only_ the factor that makes or breaks a man's pride!" He said with a laugh. "But I can explain that to you later." And then he began stroking Spock's penis, squeezing the shaft and digging his thumb in under the ridges. It was the first time anyone—including himself—had touched Spock so intimately, and after only a few minutes, he orgasmed, his syrupy semen dribbling over Jim's fingers.

After wiping his hand clean on the sheet and giving Spock a few moments to recover from his post-orgasmic high, Kirk said: "I want to make love to you. Would you let me?"

"This phrase," Spock intoned, "I do not fully understand its meaning."

"I want to—um—be inside you, You know... have anal sex with you." Clearly, Jim had never had to explain this concept to anyone.

"You wish to penetrate my anus?" Spock asked.

"Yeah, basically."

"And this is... pleasurable?" Spock asked, uncertain.

"Once you get used to it, yes."

Spock sat silently for a moment, considering this. He was unsure of how the act of taking something inside one's rectum could yield pleasure, but he did trust that what Jim was telling him was true. And he knew that the act would bring Jim pleasure, and he wanted so desperately to satisfy Jim.

"Alright," Spock finally said. "I am not adverse to taking part in this activity with you."

"Great," Jim said, reaching off of the bed to retrieve a square foil packet and a small tube from the pocket of his discarded trousers. After stroking his penis back into full hardness, he tore open the package and rolled the latex sheath onto his erection. Opening the small tube, he squeezed out some clear gel into his hand, coating his condom-clad penis with it and spreading the rest over three fingers of one hand.

Spock looked at him, silently asking the purpose of his actions.

"I need to prepare your for me to enter, so I don't hurt you," Jim said, wiggling the slicked fingers, "and I need the condom to keep from spreading any STDs I may have to you."

"Then would I not already be at risk for acquiring these diseases after having taken your bare penis into my mouth?"

"Damn. The blow-job. Well, let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best."

Spock was again confused by the human phrases that were used, but these thoughts were lost to him as Kirk trailed an oiled finger down the cleft of his buttocks, sliding it in between to gently massage the puckered skin surrounding his anus. Wrapping his other arm around Spock's slim waist, Jim pulled him closer to himself. The finger slipped in past the ring of muscle, and Spock relaxed his anal muscles around the intrusion, allowing Jim to thrust the finger in and out of him before adding a second finger. A third finger soon joined the first two.

Because of Spock's ability to control his inner muscles, Jim was able to thrust his fingers in easily, twisting and bending them, massaging the inner walls of the tight, hot passage. Then Jim's fingers brushed against what Spock knew to be his prostate, and he moaned in startled delight. Now he understood how this act could bring him pleasure.

After another minute of preparation, Jim removed his fingers from within Spock.

"Since this is obviously your first time, I think it would be best if you ride me."

"Ride you?" Spock asked, perplexed by Jim's wording.

"Here, I'll show you," he said, moving to lie fully on his back and pulling Spock over to straddle his hips. "You'll sit down on my cock, and this way, you'll have control over the pace."

"I see," Spock said. "Quite logical."

Spock aligned his anus with the head of Jim's erection and began to sink back onto him, letting it enter his body. He hissed slightly in pain, the burning and fullness extremely uncomfortable for him, but he quickly relaxed his muscles, and was able to slide the rest of the way down Jim's shaft with relatively little discomfort. After giving his body a moment to adjust to Jim's girth, Spock placed his hands on his chest to give him more leverage as he lifted himself slightly before sitting back. Having felt almost no pain, Spock did it again, lifting farther this time and dropping down harder. The tip of Jim's penis struck his prostate, and everything became a haze of pleasure. His body moved on autopilot as he lost himself to the overwhelming passion, and when he reached climax, the sensations proved too much, and he slumped against Jim's chest, unconscious.

3 3 3

When Spock awoke the next morning, he found that Jim had, once again, left at some point during the night. He held the sadness welling inside him at bay, but he did not delude himself into thinking that he felt nothing about the situation, or that Jim was just trying to keep their trysts confidential.

Sitting up in his bed, Spock gasped as a sharp pain shot from the base of his spine upward. While he had been able to relax his muscles and suppress any pain that he would have felt the night before, his muscles had still been strained by the unfamiliar actions, and he was just now feeling the effects.

Sighing, he turned to look at his chronometer, all but jumping out of his bed when he saw that his first shift had already started. He completed his morning rituals faster than he would have thought possible in his pained state. Spock walked briskly from his quarters to the turbo-lift, ignoring the pain in his back and legs until he was able to rest against the wall of the lift.

"Bridge," he instructed.

Spock wondered how long the pain would last. He had a high tolerance for pain, but if it did not dissipate by the end his first shift, he decided, he would put himself in a light healing trance until his second shift was to begin. When he finally stepped onto the Bridge, it was 0607, and everyone present was looking at him in befuddlement. Spock had always prided himself in his punctuality.

Nodding a greeting to Nyota, he took his place, sitting down carefully to avoid causing himself any excess pain. He heard a tiny gasp, only detectable by his sensitive Vulcan ears. He turned toward the source to see Nyota staring at him, and from her expression, he knew that she was aware of exactly what he had done the night previous.

Spock knew that she disapproved of what he had done; she thought he was letting himself be taken advantage of, and she was probably right. Why should Kirk be able to fulfill desires he did not even know he had and still go on with his life normally while Spock was left to suffer in the aftermath?

But Spock knew he was also at fault, even if Nyota failed to notice (more likely: "refused to acknowledge") that fact. He was using Jim just as much as he himself was being used.

* * *

I feel so bad doing this to Spock...

Next chapter is the last dream, and there will finally be some Scotty/Chekov! Hurray for physics-geeks!


	7. Dream Three: Kirk

Finally another chapter, and it's the longest Kirk chapter I've written so far. The Scotty/Chekov starts here, too. Yay nerd love!

**Pairings: **Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings: **Sex. Language. Badly spelled Chekov-speak.

Btw, I have no idea how old Scotty is supposed to be, so I have made him 34, if for nothing more than Chekov having to mess up more v's and w's when he states the age difference.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Dream Three: Kirk_

* * *

Walking out of the Med Bay, Kirk was approached by Ensign Chekov.

"Keptin," he began, his posture and voice revealing nervousness. "I vish to speak to you about somezink."

"Of course, Ensign. What is it you want to speak about?"

"Vell..." He trailed off into silence for a moment before speaking again. "Eet eez razher... personal metter, and I sought zat you vould be ze best person to talk vis about eet."

"I see," Kirk replied, now wondering what it was that Chekov was so nervous about saying. "Would you like to talk about it somewhere more private?"

"Yes, Keptin, if zat vould be fine vis you," he said shyly, nodding.

"Of course it's fine. You have your physical now, right?" Another nod. "Okay, so meet me at Observation Deck Four after Bones is done with you, and then we can talk."

"Zank you wery much, Keptin," he said, seeming slightly less tense as he walked into the Med Bay.

Kirk went directly to the observation deck, knowing that Bones would not be keeping the little Russian long. Bones was angry, and when he was angry, he rushed through his work so he could get a drink sooner. Apparently, Spock had refused to come in for his quarterly physical because it was "illogical" to waste time and resources on someone who was perfectly healthy. This had not gone over well with the doctor, and he had complained to Kirk about the "annoying, scrawny, green-blooded elf" all throughout the various tests. ("Who does he think he is? I'm the doctor, Goddammit, and I'll be the one to tell that fuckin' hobgoblin whether he's healthy or not! What's a man gotta do around here to get a bit of respect?") Sitting down in one of the armchairs, looking out at the stars, Kirk waited for Chekov to arrive.

Only ten minutes later, Kirk heard someone shuffle into the room, and Chekov came to sit delicately in a large, plush chair that made him look that much smaller. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, about to speak, but unable to get the words out.

Finally, he quietly said: "Keptin, I hawe... feelinks... for someone, and I am not sure vat I should do."

"Oh," Kirk said, not really that surprised. "Well, if that's the case, how about we talk as friends instead of captain and crew? I'll call you 'Pavel' and you call me 'Jim,' okay?"

"Okay, Kep—Jeem," he replied with a bright smile.

"Good," Kirk said with a grin of his own. Chekov was just so damn cute, and he almost felt he was talking to a baby brother (as was true for much of the crew of the _Enterprise_, he knew). "So who is it?"

"Vell..." Chekov was nervous again.

"How about I guess and you tell me 'yes' or 'no'?"

"Yes, I sink zat vould be better."

"Okay. Is it... Lieutenant Uhura?"

"No."

"Yeoman Rand?"

"No."

"Nurse Chapel?"

"No," he said, hesitating before continuing to speak. "Ze von I lowe eez not... eez not a voman, Jeem."

"Alrighty, then," Kirk said, just a tiny bit taken aback. "Who is a guy you would like? Oh, I know! It's Sulu."

"Nyet!" Chekov said, seeming disgusted by the very thought. "Hikaru eez like a brozzer to me! How could I sink of heem in zat vay?"

"Okay," Kirk said, trying not to laugh at how cute Chekov looked with his eyes wide and cheeks flushed bright pink, "so it's definitely not him. Is it Riley?"

"Ze von hoo eez alvays singink Irish folksongs? He eez just annoyink!"

"It's not me, is it?" Kirk asked nervously.

"No, eet eez not you, Jeem," Chekov assured with a tiny amused smile.

"Thank God! That would've made this _incredibly _awkward." He let out a relieved laugh. "Let's see... McCoy?"

"No, I am a beet frightened of heem," Chekov admitted, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

"A lot of people are. Then what about Spock?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Besides, Meester Spock eez taken."

"I thought he and Uhura had broken up." This earned him an odd look. "Then who?" Chekov looked even more confused. "Never mind. Who do you like? I'm fresh out of ideas."

"Eet eez..." he began, blushing heavily, "eet eez... Meester Scott."

"Scotty? You like Scotty?" Kirk asked in bewilderment. "And you're how old?"

"Sewenteen."

"So he's how much older than you?"

"Sewenteen years."

"Holy shit, kid," Kirk exclaimed, trying to absorb everything he had just heard.

"Duz zis... bozzer you, Jeem?" he asked, looking nervous enough to burst into tears.

"No! No. You can love whoever you want and I won't have a problem with it," Kirk said quickly, putting a reassuring hand on one of the tiny shoulders. "You just surprised me, Pavel, that's all. I would never have thought that you'd like him, ya know?"

"Vhy?" Chekov looked confused again. "He eez wery intelligent, and he eez funny and... handsome." The blush that had just faded returned full force.

Kirk smiled at him before asking: "What are you going to do?"

"Zat eez vhy I came to you, Jeem. I am not really sure vat I should do," he said, looking sad.

"Why not just tell him?"

"I am too shy, and he sinks I am just a keed."

"But age is just a number. Besides, in a lot states in the US, seventeen is the age of consent. You'd be fair game."

"But ve are not in Amerika now, Jeem."

"I know. _But_! the _Enterprise_ was built in the US, so you could argue that we're on American soil, so to speak. If your argument involves his precious ship, Scotty's sure to listen."

"But I steel vould not know vat to say to heem."

"Well, you're cute, and you're smart, so you shouldn't have a problem getting him to notice you, if he hasn't already. Bones tells me he's been drinking more lately. A guilty conscience, perhaps?" Kirk winked. "But if you still don't want to say anything, I can come up with something."

"Really?" Chekov asked hopefully.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Pavel," Kirk said, ruffling his curly hair as he stood up. "Good ol' Kirk'll take care of everything. Now, I've got to get to my next shift, but if you ever need to talk again, just tell me, okay?"

"Da. Zank you, Jeem." His smile was almost blinding.

Kirk smiled back and walked out of the observation deck.

3 3 3

Kirk was walking across the mess hall with Scotty, heading for the table Bones was sitting at, when Chekov came running in towards them.

"Meester Scott! I haff a qvestion about the varp engines."

The looked over toward him, and Kirk got an idea (a stroke of genius, if he did say so himself). He stepped ahead of Scotty, holding his foot out to the side as Chekov ran past him. A startled squeak told him he had successfully tripped Chekov. He heard a thump and a grunted curse, but he didn't look back toward Scotty and Chekov until he had sat down next to Bones. What he saw made him smirk. Scotty and Chekov were a tangle of limbs and _somehow_ one of the engineer's hands had ended up cupping the tiny Russian's ass. (_Somebody's taking advantage of the situation._) They just lied there staring at each other, nose to nose.

"Now that wasn't very nice, Jim," Bones said, scolding Kirk as if he were a small child.

"Oh yeah?" Kirk argued petulantly. "Just give it a minute; you'll see!"

Neither Scotty nor Chekov had made any move to get back up, looking into each other's eyes as if there was no one else in the (rather crowded) room. Finally, something passed between them, almost like a visible spark, and their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Bones scooted closer to Kirk so no one would be able to hear their conversation. "How did you know Scotty likes Chekov?"

"I didn't, but I know Chekov likes Scotty. And hasn't Scotty been drinking a lot lately?"

"Much more than usual, yeah. He always comes to my room for a nightcap, and once he's got enough in 'im, he'll go on and on about how he feels like some perverted old man. Didn't do too much to hold him back, though, did it?"

"Nope," Kirk said, watching as the kiss taking place on the mess hall floor became anything but chaste. The hand on Chekov's ass had began kneading one of the cheeks, and Scotty's other hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close. Chekov had his hands buried in Scotty's hair, and he was sucking on the Scotsman's tongue, moaning quietly. Had he not admitted to never having been kissed when Kirk had taken him drinking (legally, on that particular planet) with the rest of the guys?

_The kid sure catches on fast_, Kirk thought, laughing to himself.

3 3 3

_He was fucking them from behind this time, clutching their hips tight enough to bruise. His partner let out a breathy gasp with each inward thrust, and their back was arched as they pushed back toward him. Kirk took a hold of their head to turn them toward him for a long, open-mouthed kiss. Breaking the lip-lock, he shoved two fingers into the hot mouth. As his fingers were sucked and licked, he could feel the vibrations of throaty moans shooting up his arm, causing little shocks of pleasure that shot strait to his cock. When the tight heat squeezed around his dick like a vice, Kirk came. He pulled out, watching as streaks of white decorated the globes of that perfect ass._

_Kirk laid down, pulling his partner to spoon against his chest. Then, dark eyes were looking at him from under thick, ink-black lashes, begging to be taken again. How could he say "no" to more sex?_

_He hardened again quickly, and he turned his partner on to their back, spreading their legs wide. He pushed into the well-stretched asshole again, sighing as he was once again surrounded by the overwhelmingly, almost painfully, hot walls. He thrust in, slow and even, building up the pace steadily until he was going in and out as fast and hard as he could. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he __was pulled down into a quick, sloppy kiss. Moans were becoming louder and more frequent from his partner, and he could feel the thud of their heartbeat against his side. He came again, hard, looking into lovely dark eyes._

3 3 3

Kirk awoke surrounded in soft warmth, something hot and firm pressed against the length of his side. Legs were tangled with his, and from the spicy scent that clung to the pillow and sheets, he could tell that he was not in his own rooms. He sighed, wrapping himself tighter around the other person, nuzzling the silky hair on the head resting under his chin. He tried to slip back into sweet unconsciousness, but he found that he could not. He looked around, trying to find the chronometer, finally finding it, and saw that it was nearly time to start getting ready for his first shift.

He stretched the arm not trapped under the other body and finally looked down at the face of the person he was sleeping with. The mouth was well-shaped and full. There was a straight nose, and long black lashes rested lightly against pale cheeks. The brows were angled severely, and the ears came to a elegant point.

_Wait. Pointed ears?_ Kirk only knew one person on the ship who had pointed ears.

**_Fuck._**

* * *

OK, so here is where the real shit happens. Next chapter will conclude this particular situation.

Btw, I'm kind of combining the TOS Scotty and the reboot Scotty. As much as I love Simon Pegg, I prefer a Scotty who has hair, so... yeah.


	8. Encounter Three: Spock

Holy Bejezzus! _This_ is the single longest thing I have ever written! 9 hand-written pages! I am on a roll! But the rest of the chapters will probably seem really small and wimpy in comparison, so I've actually just dug myself into a hole: write until my fingers fall off, or risk looking like I'm lazy... oh, what to do...

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (Major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** Sex. Some language. A sappy father-son moment.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Encounter Three: Spock_

* * *

Spock was sitting in the mess hall next to Nyota, eating a salad when he heard Ensign Chekov come running into the room toward Jim and Mr. Scott. When he looked up, he saw a devious smirk plaster itself on Jim's face as he tripped Chekov, who fell on to Mr. Scott, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Their legs were woven together, and Chekov's hands were cupping the back of Mr. Scott's head, keeping it from hitting the floor. (Ah, Chekov. Ever as caring as an angel that so many claimed he resembled.) One of Mr. Scott's hands had a firm hold on the young ensign's rear. (The chances of that placement being an accident were close to zero.) Observing the way they looked at each other, and the self-satisfied smirk on Jim's face, Spock concluded that Jim had been "playing matchmaker," as humans said. And he had obviously played well, because now the two men were kissing. Every last person in the mess hall was focusing their attention on the display taking place on the middle of the floor.

Spock was happy for the two; their connection was obviously strong enough to maintain their romantic relationship through multiple life times. However, he was also slipping deeper and deeper into sadness and self-pity as he watched them. It was their "destiny" to be together, but he could not say the same for Jim and himself.

He stood up, leaving his tray and walking toward the door. He knew that to most of the crew members present, he would seem to be a prude (as they no doubt assumed about Vulcans as a race), disgusted by such a public display of affection, but in truth, he did not want anyone to see the envy burning in his eyes.

3 3 3

Spock sat next to his bed meditating. He had been in a deep trance for two point five three hours, but he was still unable to banish the sadness and jealousy that had been plaguing him since he left the mess hall.

He was so deep within the recesses of his own mind that he did not hear the door to his quarters open or shut, or the footsteps approaching him. He did not return to the physical world until he felt a hand gently cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was Jim's worried face.

"Spock, are you alright?" he asked.

"No, Jim, I am not," Spock replied, seeing no logical reason to lie.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do not."

Jim sighed, looking slightly irritated. Standing up from his kneeling position on the floor in front of Spock, he said: "Fine, we won't talk, but at least let me help you relax a bit."

"And how do you intend to relieve my stress?" Spock asked, becoming irritated himself. He was not in the mood to have sexual intercourse that Jim would forget the next morning.

"I'm going to give you a back massage. You're fine with that, aren't you?"

"Yes," Spock said, relieved. "That would be acceptable."

"Good. Now take off that robe and lie face down on the bed."

Spock did as he was instructed, removing his meditation robe, under which he was wearing nothing, and made himself comfortable on his bed. Once he was settled, he felt the bed dip down as Jim got on and straddled his legs.

Jim began by smoothing his hands down the length of Spock's back, then digging the heels of his palms into the muscles as he moved them back up to his neck. He rested his hands on Spock's shoulders, pushing his thumbs on either side of his spine in circular strokes, moving downward. He continued down the length of Spock's spine, letting his other fingers trail lightly over the soft skin under them. Spock was quickly becoming calm under Jim's touch and the affection he felt through it. Jim rubbed lightly at the hollows behind Spock's ears before kneading his shoulders, continuing the ministrations down his back until his hands were cupping and caressing Spock's buttocks.

"You had led me to believe that this would merely be a massage," Spock intoned.

"Well, it was supposed to be," Jim began, "but I changed my mind." He nipped at the pointed tip of Spock's ear. "And I think I can get you to change your mind, too." He began making a wet trail down Spock's spine, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on each vertebrae. Reaching Spock's buttocks, he nipped and licked at each cheek, stopping every now and then to leave a few bright green bruises. (Any protests from Spock were silenced by a quick swat at one of the cheeks.) Finally, he pulled the cheeks apart and licked from Spock's perineum, over his anus, and up to the cleft of his buttocks.

"Jim, that is most unsanitary."

"You'll love it, I promise," Jim said, almost whining. He licked over the puckered skin again, and Spock could not hold in a tiny moan. "See."

"Very well," Spock sighed. "Do as you wish."

Jim gave his entrance another long lick before circling it lightly with the tip of his tongue. Spock pushed himself back toward Jim, and he was pulled up onto his hands and knees. Jim pushed the tip of his tongue against the ring of muscle, finally pushing inside the slightest bit. Spock rocked back against Jim's face as he thrust his tongue in and out, imitating the sex act. He moaned in the back of the his throat, the noises coming from him increasing in volume when Jim grasped his half-hard penis, stroking it to full erection. Then, suddenly, Jim stopped, pulling away from Spock.

"For what reason have you ceased your activity, Jim?" Spock asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"We can't continue this without lube, can we?" Jim asked, amused. He reached into the bottom-most compartment of the nightstand beside the bed and pulled out a tube of lubricant.

Spock looked surprised. "Did you leave that here after our last encounter?'

"Yup," Jim replied, popping open the cap before setting the tube on the bed beside him. "It's always good to be prepared."

Jim quickly removed his t-shirt and sleep pants. Picking the open tube back up, he coated three fingers. He rubbed the slick gel onto the skin surrounding Spock's anus before pushing two fingers inside. He waited a moment for Spock to relax his muscles before adding the third, spreading and twisting them to stretch the tight passage. Pulling his fingers out, he covered his erection with lubricant, taking a hold of Spock's hips and aligning the head of his penis with his anus.

"Do we not require the use of a condom to prevent the transfer of diseases?" Spock asked, looking back at Jim.

"Nope," Jim replied, "because unlike _someone_, I went to my physical and Bones told me I'm all clear."

Spock nodded in understanding, thus giving Jim permission to continue. Jim pushed into him in one steady thrust, then waited a moment to let Spock adjust and relax his inner muscles. Feeling them slacken, he began thrusting in and out, quickly setting a hard, fast rhythm. Jim's hands tightened on Spock's hips almost painfully, the fingers digging in and leaving bruises, but Spock could only moan and gasp at the added sensation.

Jim turned Spock's head toward his for a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair and his tongue with Spock's. When he pulled away to breath, he pushed two fingers between the slightly parted lips. Spock sucked on Jim's fingers, licking delicately at the tips, and he was rewarded with a low groan for the imitation "blow job" (Though was it not illogical to call it a "blow job" when the act involved sucking?) he was performing.

Jim wrapped his other hand around Spock's erection, pulling in short jerks as he thrust in and out, hitting Spock's prostate every thrust or so. Spock moaned, and after a short time, he climaxed, his convulsing inner muscles bringing Jim to his own orgasm. Jim pulled his penis out of him, and Spock felt his warm semen fall on his lower back and buttocks. Jim lied down on his side, pulling Spock down with him. He sighed contentedly, capturing Spock's earlobe between his lips and gently nibbling and sucking at it. In his post-orgasmic state, the sensations from the assault on his sensitive ear were multiplied tenfold.

Jim wrapped an arm around Spock's abdomen, laughing when he felt his returning erection. "Again?"

"Please, Jim." Spock felt Jim harden against his back at his moaned words.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." Jim laughed again.

Spock moved to return to his position on all fours when Jim stopped him.

"No, I want to see the look of ecstasy on your face when I'm inside you."

"You simply assume that you are such and extraordinary lover?" Spock asked teasingly.

"I don't assume; I know," Jim replied, positioning himself over Spock. "Now spread those legs."

Spock obeyed, laughing quietly. His chuckle abruptly transformed into a long moan as Jim thrust into him without warning. This time the pace started slow and gentle, building in speed and intensity as they continued. Spock wrapped his legs around Jim's thighs, encouraging him to thrust deeper, and pulled Jim into a kiss, winding his arms tightly around his strong shoulders. He tightened and loosened his anal muscles around Jim's penis, bringing Jim more pleasure. Spock gasped as he felt Jim climax inside him, the warm ejaculate coating his inner walls.

When his orgasm had subsided, he pulled his softening member out of Spock. Seeing that Spock was still erect, Jim grasped one of his hands, pulling it toward his mouth. He kissed and licked the palm before sucking a few fingers into his mouth. Spock was moaning, pushing his sensitive fingers farther into the wet warmth of Jim's mouth. When Jim lightly bit at the tips, the sensation was too much, and Spock orgasmed.

Jim lied down, pulling the panting Spock to lie on his chest. He tangled their legs together and wrapped an arm around Spock's back, pulling him closer.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"I think... I think that I'm in love with you."

Spock's vision blurred with unshed tears. "I love you as well, Jim." He buried his face in Jim's neck and fell asleep.

3 3 3

When Spock awoke the next morning, he was resting on something firm, his head rising and falling with its rhythmic movements. He was delighted by the fact that Jim had remained through the night, and he let a small smile spread across his face as he looked up into Jim's eyes. However, there was something amiss in Jim's blue gaze. His eyes were alight with realization and... horror?

Jim pushed Spock away from him harshly, jumping up from the bed and pulling the top blanket with him to cover himself. Jim glared at Spock.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he all but screamed.

Spock was livid now. He sat up, saying: "I assure you, _Captain_," the title was spit out with more venom then he knew he could manage, "that _I_ did nothing."

"Well you must have," Jim argued, waving one arm around in the air, "because there's no way _I_ would have come here myself!"

"On the contrary." Spock increased the intensity of his glare. "It was, in fact, _you_ who came to _me_, this being the third time."

"What? Me? I would never--!" he cut himself off when he saw Spock's eyes narrow into slits.

Spock stood up from the bed, turning his back on Jim. Tears of anger and despair were threatening to fall from his eyes, and he refused to let Jim see them. He did, however, let Jim see the bruises on his hips and buttocks, evidence of exactly what he had done. He heard Jim gasp as he bent down to retrieve Jim's discarded clothing, and he knew that he was staring at the dried semen plastered on Spock's inner thighs. Some spiteful part of Spock was satisfied by Jim's startlement.

Turning to Jim, Spock threw the clothing at him. "If you are so adverse to being here, Captain, then I suggest that you take your leave." He turned on his heel, walking into his bathroom. He knew Jim would be gone by the time he reemerged.

Stepping into the shower, Spock let his tears mingle with the falling water.

3 3 3

Spock did not have time to meditate that morning, so he spent the walk and ride on the turbo-lift to the Bridge mentally preparing himself to face the crew of the _Enterprise_ and Ji—_her captain_. He had come to a decision. He would have to separate himself from all other parties involved in the situation and take as long as was needed to calm and contain his raging emotions. Schooling his face in to a look of calm indifference, Spock stepped on to the Bridge

Instead of going to his station, Spock approached the command chair. "Captain, I must speak with you briefly." Seeing Kirk move to stand up, he continued. "It will only take a moment of your time, and we need not leave the Bridge."

"Alright," Kirk said nervously, "what do we need to talk about?"

"Sir, I am requesting a leave of absence."

"Wha--?"

"We are currently on a route that will pass directly through the solar system in which New Vulcan is located, and I must request that I be dropped off there."

"How long do you plan on staying there?" Kirk was looking more and more worried as the conversation progressed.

"My leave will be indefinite, and within two weeks after my arrival on New Vulcan, you may or may not receive a letter of resignation from myself."

"But Spock--" Kirk was cut off by Spock's harsh glare. "Alright. Fine. You can have your leave."

"Thank you, sir. I shall be spending the remaining time until we reach our destination in my quarters. I do not wish to be disturbed." With that, Spock turned and went back into the turbo-lift.

Right as the door was sliding closed, Nyota stepped in next to him.

"Spock, what happened? Are you alright?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"No, Nyota, I am far from alright; however, I do not wish to speak of the situation at this time."

When the turbo-lift arrived at the correct deck, Nyota gave Spock's shoulder a quick squeeze before letting him exit.

"I shall send you a transmission when I feel that I am ready to share what has happened with you."

"I'll be waiting for it. I'll be sure to see you off when you beam down."

"Thank you, Nyota."

The door slid shut and they were separated. Spock proceeded down the hall to his quarters.

3 3 3

Spock sat in front of the communication screen on his desk. He was waiting for the computer to connect with the one in his father's new home. Static briefly flitted across the screen before a blurry image of Sarek appeared. Spock waited a moment for the picture to become clear before speaking.

"Father."

"Spock?" Sarek sounded slightly surprised, but something about his expression revealed that he was glad to hear his son's voice. "For what reason am I receiving a transmission from you?"

"I shall be arriving at New Vulcan in a matter of days, and I would be most grateful if you would have a room prepared for me to stay in."

"Of course I would be pleased to have you stay with me, but I am curious as to why you are just now informing me of your imminent arrival."

"I am..." Spock began, trying to find the right words, "emotionally compromised, and I believe it would be logical to give myself time to sort out my feelings in solitude, away from the _Enterprise_."

"Are you willing to speak about the situation that has caused you such great distress?" The slightest bit of worry was seeping into Sarek's normally emotionless voice.

"No, Father," Spock replied, "though I am grateful for your concern."

"Very well, then. I and your elder self shall meet you at the beam-down point."

"You know of my alternate self?" Spock asked, surprised.

"You are my son, Spock," Sarek replied warmly, "and I will always be able to recognize you, no matter what age." A tiny smile graced his sever features.

Spock allowed himself to smile back. "I shall inform you an hour prior to my arrival. I shall see you soon, Father."

"Good-bye, my son."

The transmission ended and the screen went blank.

3 3 3

Spock stood on one of the transporter pads, bags of his belongings on the pads surrounding him. Mr. Scott was at the control panel, the Captain beside him. Nyota walked up to Spock, pulling his head down to place a tender kiss on his forehead, and she wrapped her arms securely around his shoulders, squeezing tightly. Spock returned the embrace before she stepped back.

"Energize."

Just as he began to feel the tingle of his atoms separating from each other, Spock saw Nyota deliver a hard smack across the Captain's face. Then, he was looking at red sand and the stoic face of his father.

* * *

Oh, god, I hate doing all this stuff to Spock! But I must, for the sake of plot...

The next few chapters will be focusing on Kirk figuring out what the hell he did wrong. In fact, there may not be any more Spock-centric chapters for this story. And now that all the dream shit is over, I'm actually going to have to come up with names for the chapters. Fuck! More thinking!

Anyway, there are only a few more chapters left (I think), and I was thinking of writing a Scotty/Chekov story stemming off of this plot line, if anyone is interested. So give me a holler if you have an opinion.


	9. Dream Four: Kirk

Here begins the string mostly Kirk-centric chapters, and Kirk's journey to being less of a selfish jackass. The rest of the chapters will probably be from Kirks POV, but I may end up doing a Spock-centric epilogue if I have it in me.

**Pairings**: Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** language, brief mentions of sex

Btw, thanks for all the reviews of the last chapter. That chapter has the most out of all of them. And I'm sorry, Only October Girl, but Uhura won't be punished. Kirk'll have too much to think about to even bother with that. However, I too have issues with Uhura every now and then, when I'm in a certain mood.

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Dream Four: Kirk _

* * *

For a relatively small woman, Lieutenant Uhura sure could hit! Kirk's cheek was stinging, but he knew she was smart enough not to leave a mark; whatever happened between them here would be staying between them (and Scotty, but Uhura could easily scare him into silence).

"I sure hope you're happy with yourself," she said with biting sarcasm.

"What did I do?" Kirk screamed back at her.

"Oh, don't try to make yourself look like the victim here. I know he left because of you!"

"And what proof do you have?"

"I'm Spock's friend and confident. He's told me _exactly_ what's gone on between the two of you."

Kirk's retort died in his throat. Oh, God! Why did someone else have to know?

Scotty used the brief period of silence while Kirk overcame his shock to make his escape. "Well, yeh know, mah dear ship, she need meh, so Ah'll jus' leave yeh to it, yea?" He was out the door before either could respond. (Not that they would have, anyway.)

"So you know... everything?" Kirk asked quietly.

"Yes," She was talking to him like he was some kind of idiot now. "Everything except what happened a few nights ago, but I _know_ something happened. So what is it? Did you get bored of him? Was he not _good enough _for you? He's not one of those _cheap sluts _you're used to. You can't just use him and then _throw him away!_"

"What? I wouldn't--" Kirk stuttered, trying to defend himself.

"You do know he was a _virgin_ before _you_ took him, _don't you_?" Her anger was building.

"A... a _**virgin**_?" he asked quietly, running a hand nervously over his face and hair. "He—he..." He trailed off into silence.

"You know what? I'm done with you, _Captain_," Uhura spat. "I'll just leave you to stew in your guilt, if that's even _possible_ for someone without a conscience." She stomped out of the room.

Kirk leaned back against the control panel, sliding down to the floor when his legs gave out under him. He hugged his knees against his chest.

_He gave me his virginity?_ Kirk did feel guilty for taking that which he knew was precious to Vulcans. (They did mate for life, after all.) But something else inside of him, something he could not really name, became light and warm at the thought of Spock doing that for him.

Kirk sighed. He needed time to think.

3 3 3

Several days later, Uhura still seemed ready to hit Kirk at any given moment. On the Bridge, she was perfectly professional, but her tone was hard, and he was cautious around her, making sure that he did not make any wrong moves that would set her off.

Kirk knew he should have punished her in some way for striking him. He knew, but he couldn't. He knew he deserved whatever she dished out; he deserved _worse_, but for some reason, Spock had refused to hurt him physically, and if he would not do it, _someone_ had to. And not only was it well deserved, what she had told him had made him realize the gravity of what he had done, putting him into a state of complete shock. He was supposed to be Spock's friend, right? And just look what he had done to him!

After finishing his shifts, Kirk locked himself in his quarters, only eating a small dinner. He just could not seem to hold much down, and for some odd reason, he knew that his unease went beyond the guilt he felt for hurting Spock, went beyond _him_.

He jumped when the door-chime sounded, tripping over himself as he tried to reach the door.

"Who is it?" Kirk's voice was quiet and gravely from having barely talked in the last week.

"Ah... eet eez Chekov, sir," came the nervous reply. "May I... may I speak vis you, Keptin?"

Kirk unlocked the door, letting it slide open so Chekov could enter. "Yeah... yeah, c'mon in."

Chekov sat down next to Kirk on the couch in the small lounge area.

"Whadidja want t' talk about?" Kirk asked tiredly.

"Vell... I know eet eez not my place to ask, but vhy deed Meester Spock leawe?"

"Um... you see--" Kirk stuttered, trying to come up with a believable cover story. (He knew he should have done that long before now.)

"Deed you hawe a fight vis heem?" Chekov supplied.

"Yes..." Kirk answered slowly.

"Eet vas a bad break up?"

"Yea—what?" Kirk looked at Chekov, bewildered. "Break up? But we were never together."

Now Chekov looked confused. "You vere not togezer? But I sought--"

"No, we weren't," Kirk confirmed. "Wait--! Is that why you came to me about Scotty?"

"Da. I sought zat you also lowed a man."

"But why did you think I was in love with Spock?"

"Vell, ven you come onto ze Breege, you alvays look tvard hees station first, and you alvays touch heem. You hawe ewen touched heem een a vay zat eez like a keess for Wulcans."

"I have?" Kirk asked, surprised.

"Da. Eez like zis," he said, demonstrating the motion with his own hands. "Eez vat ve learned een ze mandetory course on deeferent cultures, remember?"

Kirk gasped. He did remember learning that touching hands was very intimate for Vulcans. Had he been doing that subconsciously all this time?

"Also, ven Meester Spock vas late for hees mornink sheeft a few veeks ago, he vas leemping like--"

Kirk was shaken out of his thoughts by this statement. "Okay! Okay, I get it!" Kirk said to try and cut Chekov off. He blushed heavily. So Spock's odd behavior and movements that day really _had_ been his fault.

"So, I vas wronk? You do not lowe heem?" Chekov asked.

"I... I don't know anymore," Kirk admitted. "You've given me a lot to think about, kid."

"Jeem," Chekov said gently, "eef you ewer neet to talk, you ken come to me."

"Kirk smiled slightly. "Thanks, Pavel."

"Eez no problem. Eez vat friends are for, da?:

Kirk just sat silently, deep in thought. Chekov smiled comfortingly at him one last time before leaving the room.

3 3 3

_Kirk pulled away from the kiss, taking in Spock's bright chartreuse blush and wet, kiss-swollen lips. He looked into the dark eyes, seeing the passion he had ignited in the normally stoic man swirling there. The intensity with which Spock looked at him left Kirk breathless._

_"Jim." His arousal spiked as his name dripped from Spock's sensual mouth like honey._

_Then, he was looking down at Spock's face as his cock disappeared between the lips that had become full and green with blood. He was taken aback by the pure affection and adoration that he saw and... and _felt_ from Spock. He moaned._

_Now Spock was licking him clean, swallowing every last drop of his cum, and he looked completely sated and satisfied despite the fact that his dick was still hard and throbbing between his smooth, pale thighs._

_Flashes of images: kisses, caresses; and then Spock was bent before him on the bed, the proud Vulcan thrusting his firm ass back toward Kirk. He was vulnerable and wanton and _beautiful_ as Kirk had never seen him before. That he could reduce Spock—logical, cool, collected Spock—to this state sent a rush of masculine pride through every sell of his body. And later, as he made slow, gentle love to the other man, wrapped around each other and looking into each other's eyes, his pride turned to deep affection that mingled with Spock's own. He was being completely overwhelmed by the raw power of Spock's feelings for him. They bled through his skin and reverberated through his entire being._

I love you. I need you. Jim. **T'hy'la**.

_It was almost enough to make him come, or cry, or both._

_Then, as Spock woke up next to him, Kirk saw a small but genuine smile spread across his lips, conveying more joy and love than any other man could with a full out grin. But Kirk rejected him, yelled at him, and as Spock turned back to him with his cloths, he saw that the Vulcan's eyes were glassy with tears that his pride would not allow to fall._

You told me you loved me.

_The wavering baritone was not his own, and it had come from _inside_ his mind. The words kept repeating themselves in Kirk's head._

You told me you loved me...

3 3 3

Kirk awoke in a cold sweat. The once-forgotten memories filled him with longing (_That_ was what he had felt was missing for so long!) and guilt.

He loved Spock—he knew that now—and he had apparently told him as much, only to hurt him terribly because he could not accept that fact. What gave him the right to do that? How could he not have recognized his own feelings for what they were? True, Kirk had never been in love before, but he knew that was a bullshit excuse.

And how could Spock have just let him get away with all that? He knew the answer; he had felt it whenever his bare skin touched Spock's. Spock loved him enough to give him pleasure no matter how much he was hurting himself. He just wanted to do what he could to satisfy Kirk, and he would gladly receive what little he got in return. Kirk knew Spock would have given him the universe at the drop of a hat if he had the power.

Kirk was disgusted with himself. How could he have been so _selfish_? He needed to make things right; somehow, he would do it, even if he had to spend the rest of his life making it up to the other man.

Kirk's decision put him slightly more at peace, and he rolled over to go back to sleep. However, he could not shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

* * *

There it is... Kirk's thinking time. I hope he didn't hurt his brain _too_ badly.

Anyway, as for Chekov being all perceptive and shit, I think that younger people (Geez, I'm still young myself, and I'm going on like this!) are more connected to a higher _something_, and are able to see and know things that adults aren't. I officially decided this when my little brother knew the exact day my grandma was going to die. He was at camp, and he had decided the day before that he didn't want to come home for the weekend, but at 7 the next morning, he texted my dad (even though he wasn't supposed to have a cell phone) to pick him up. My grandma was dead just over ten hours later. Chekov kind of reminds me of my brother, all super smart at such a young age, so I thought I'd put that part of my brother into Chekov's character for this story.

So, there will be, at most, three or four chapters after this. I can't believe it's almost finished! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to review. (My god! I've become a total review whore!)

Peace out, bitches!


	10. Wake Up Call: Kirk

Well, here be the next chapter. Probably second to last (not counting an epilogue that I may or may not write).

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** some language, but really nothing else

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Wake Up Call: Kirk_

* * *

Kirk drummed his fingers over one of the control panels on the arm of his command chair, only making minimal effort to avoid hitting any buttons. He was bored; everyone was. He was half-asleep, but he could tell that his tapping was starting to grate on the nerves of the other occupants of the Bridge; Chekov had started to fidget (Not a small twitch, but a full-body shudder. He had been close to twitching himself right out of his chair more than a few times, which Kirk found hilarious.), and Uhura's fist was clenching and unclenching, like she was weighing the pros and cons of sucker-punching the Captain.

Finally, something broke the monotonous routine: one of the machines at Uhura's station beeped. She put her ear-piece back on and listened for a moment before turning to Kirk.

"Sir, we are receiving a transmission from New Vulcan," she said, slight shock coloring her tone.

Kirk was now at full attention, turning quickly to face the communications officer. "What about?" He asked. Anticipation and apprehension coiled in his gut, almost making him physically sick.

"There was no specific reason mentioned, sir," she stated. "One of the ambassadors has requested an audience with yourself and the Chief Medical Officer."

"Route the visual communication to Conference Room B, and tell Doctor McCoy to meet me there asap."

"Aye, sir," she replied.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn." Kirk stood up quickly and walked to the turbo-lift, directing it to the proper level. On the way to the conference room, he wondered who it was that had called on him. Of course, the list was quickly narrowed down to Ambassador Sarek and Spock's older self, both of whom he assumed were _very_ unhappy with him. What confused him, though, was why they had waited so long to call and yell at him (or give him a stern talking-to; whatever it was Vulcans would do in this situation) and what any of this had to do with Bones. He had not even told the doctor what had happened between him and Spock, but he knew he probably would not be in the dark for much longer.

Entering the conference room, Kirk switched on the view screen, seeing Ambassador Spock's face materialize before him.

"Jim," he greeted in a completely neutral tone.

"Ah... hey, Spock," Kirk replied in turn, trying not to sound too nervous.

A rather awkward silence settled in the room. Thankfully, Bones came stomping in to break it only moments later.

"Now what's all this about, Jim?" he ranted. "I've got other idiots besides you to deal with right now."

"Still a regular Georgia peach, I see, Leonard," Spock drawled good-naturedly, his light tone relieving some of the tension that had been building in Kirk.

"And _how_ exactly does a man that I've never met know my name?" Bones asked, eying the man on the screen suspiciously.

"Why, doctor," Spock replied, "I am almost insulted that you do not recognize an old friend. It is I, Spock."

Bones guffawed. "What a load of shit! What kind of joke are you tryin' t' pull?" he asked, looking accusingly at Kirk. "I don't have the time for this!"

"Well, um... Bones, that's really Spock," Kirk tried to explain. "Not _our_ Spock; another one. He... he came through the same black hole-thing as Nero."

"Dammit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a science fiction writer! I've got no idea what the fuck you're goin' on about!"

"I am from the same time line as Nero," Spock supplied. "That incident stranded me in your reality. In my time, I had worked aboard the _Enterprise_ with Jim and yourself for years. That is why I know your name. And I must say that it is pleasing to see you after such a long time, for we had been friends in my time."

"Of _course_," Bones replied sarcastically. "Now it all makes _perfect_ sense."

"Whether or not you comprehend my presence here, Doctor, it would be logical to move ahead in our conversation. There is a rather urgent matter that we must discuss."

"What?" Kirk asked frantically. "What happened? Is something wrong with my Spock?" The old Vulcan cracked the barest of smiles when he heard Kirk's slip of the tongue. Bones did not seem to notice.

"The issue does pertain to my younger self," Spock said, sobering. "It is a matter of Vulcan biology, and as Doctor McCoy is responsible for the health of a Vulcan, I believed it was logical for him to also be present for this conversation."

"Well, out with it, man!" Bones prompted harshly.

"Doctor, are you aware of the mating habits of Vulcan's?" The following silence answered his question well enough. He continued. "Ever seven years, starting in the mid-to-late-thirties, Vulcan males go through what is known as Pon Farr. It is a strong urge to mate, and if the Vulcan male fails to mate, and, during the first Pon Farr, consummate a telepathic bond during the Plak Tow, or blood fever, it is very likely that they will not survive."

"So they have t' fuck or die. Okay. But what does that have to do with Spock _right now_?" Bones asked. "He's only in his mid-twenties."

"Remember, we are also half-human, so, with the shorter life-span, it is likely for Pon Farr to occur earlier. Also, it would appear that recent stresses have caused hormonal imbalances that have triggered a premature Pon Farr."

"So in some way," Kirk began uncertainly, "that's kind of my fault."

Spock sighed. "Partially, yes. But rest assured, Jim, that with all that has happened regarding Nero and the destruction of Vulcan (Spock looked very sad for a brief moment), your rejection of him is only one of many stresses."

"Wait," Bones cut in. "What does he mean _'rejection'_? What haven't you told me, Jim?"

"Err..." Kirk, embarrassed, was having trouble getting the words out.

"Jim has had relations with my younger counterpart," Spock answered for him.

_Well... cat's definitely out of the bag now..._

"Relations...? You had _sex_ with him?" Bones exploded. "That hickey you had was from _Spock_?"

"Um... yeah."

"And now you've pushed him into an early mating trance? _Way_ t' go, Jim! Way. To. _Go!_"

"Hey!" Jim defended. "I didn't even _know_ that I'd been sleeping with him until a week and a half ago!"

"Gentlemen, please," Spock interjected. "We are not here to argue over what is passed. We are here to discuss a solution."

"Well," Bones said, glaring, "what've you got?"

"Spock's betrothed, the female that we had been bonded to as a child, was destroyed with Vulcan," he began, "but he has inadvertently bonded himself to another."

"Who?" Kirk asked, slightly worried it would end up not being him.

"He has bonded himself to you, Jim. Despite the fact that you have never actually melded, the compatibility of your minds and the strength of your emotions for each other allowed a partial bond to be formed through... _other_ contact."

Kirk bushed beet-red. Bones tried not to gag.

"So..." Kirk said, "you think that I need to bond fully with him to save him."

"That I correct, Jim. But this must wholly be what you desire. If, after he has emerged from the fever, my younger self is able to sense any hesitance on your part through the bond, his guilt and self-loathing will be extreme. He loves you, and I fear that if he thinks he has forced you in to a life-long commitment, he will do something rash."

"No. It is!" Kirk assured. "It's definitely what I want!"

"It _is_?" Bones asked, shocked.

"Yeah. I love him," Kirk admitted quietly, "and I hope that you're a good enough friend to accept that."

Bones just stared at him for a long moment before speaking. "Y'know what? I'll be fine with whatever ya wanna do, just as long as ya don't make me watch any of it."

"Thanks, Bones. That means a lot," Kirk replied softly, smiling. He turned back to the view screen. "Was it the same for you, too? You and the other me?"

"Yes." Spock smiled, seeming slightly lost in his memories. "In my time line, we were bonded, though it took far longer, and our coming together was far less... _dramatic_."

"So, it's fate," Kirk stated, smiling.

"Yes." Spock smiled back. "One could say it is fate."

3 3 3

Kirk walked determinedly back onto the Bridge, taking his place.

"Mr. Chekov, set in a course for New Vulcan."

* * *

There you have it.

And man... I just love Bones and his "I'm a doctor, not a yada yada yada" lines. And I've practically been dreaming about someone calling him a Georgia peach, 'cause he's _sooooooo_ totally a sweet lil' Southern Belle. Lol.

Next chapter will have smexing, so you have something to look forward to, you horn dogs, you!

Bye-bye, y'all!


	11. Morning Fog: Kirk

Okay, I lied. This isn't going to be the last chapter. I found a good place to end it half way through the content I wanted to be there, so there's gonna be one more chapter before I do an epilogue for both Kirk and Spock. The only bad thing about more chapters is that I actually have to think of more titles. My brain already hurts!a

**Pairings: **Kirk/Spock (major)

**Warnings: **sex

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Morning Fog: Kirk_

* * *

When Kirk and Bones materialized on New Vulcan, they were immediately overwhelmed by the stifling dry heat of the air. Within seconds, they were both dripping with sweat.

"It's hotter than Hell, Jim!" Bones complained. "Why do I have to be here down with you?"

"Because of the violent nature of this time, it is likely that Jim will obtain various injuries that you will need to treat once the blood fever has subsided."

Kirk and Bones look up to see Ambassadors Spock and Sarek approaching them. Kirk knew that Spock was unhappy with him for causing his younger counterpart pain, but he did not show it; Sarek, on the other hand, seemed positively livid, despite his lack of facial expression.

"Jim, I must warn you," Spock began. "This will be a painful experience, far more than it would be under normal circumstances." He reached into the folds of his robes, pulling out a small vial filled with clear liquid. "During the Plak Tow, a natural lubricant is secreted; however, because of your inexperience in the role you will be assuming, it would be highly advisable that you prepare yourself before entering Spock's chambers. He is too far into the blood fever to be aware enough to take such precautions."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Bones yelled, putting his hands tightly over his ears and screwing his eyes shut. "Is this why I'm down here, Jim? So I can have my mind contaminated? Good _God_, man!"

Kirk almost laughed at his friend, and he could see Spock's lips quirk up into the tiniest of smiles. Composing himself, Spock handed Kirk the vial. He led the small group into a plain building not far away form the beam-down point, stopping in front of a door.

"This room is connected to Spock's," he said. "When you have readied yourself, go through the other door. I will see you in a few days, Jim."

"_Days_?" Kirk asked, alarmed.

Spock placed a comforting hand on Kirk's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "Good luck, my friend." he opened the door for Kirk and led the rest of the group away.

Kirk entered the room and shut the door behind him. He saw that there was only a small couch and a low table, and on the wall to his right, a door. Light seeped into the drab space through a single window. Still apprehensive, but determined to do what was needed to help Spock, Kirk quickly undressed himself, folding his clothes and putting them in a neat pile on the table. He sat down on the couch completely nude, staring at the small glass bottle in his hand. Lying back across the length of he couch, Kirk uncorked the bottle, pouring some of the liquid into his hand and rubbing the slick stuff between his fingers.

Though he hated to admit it, even to himself, Kirk was scared; he had never been penetrated before, and it was something far outside of his comfort zone.

_There has to be a first time for everything,_ he mused.

Breathing deeply, Kirk brought his lubed fingers to his entrance, hovering over the skin but not touching. Finally, he decided that he had to stop stalling, and pushed one of his fingers against his entrance, massaging the puckered skin before pushing it inside to the first knuckle. It was an odd feeling; not necessarily bad, just very... different. He pushed the finger farther in, thrusting it in and out slowly to try and adjust to the sensation. Kirk had done this to others before, so he knew that one finger wouldn't cut it. He pulled his finger out and re-slicked his fingers, pushing two in this time. He pulled them in and out, and on one of the inward strokes, he hit something inside of himself that sent a shock of pleasure through his entire body. He gasped, pushing against the spot again. While still immersed in the haze of pleasure, Kirk pulled his fingers apart, stretching his passage; he was glad to find that the residual pleasure took some of the edge off of the stinging and burning he felt from the stretching. Continuing this way—hitting the bundle of nerves and stretching himself more while the pleasure still lasted—Kirk was able to work three fingers into himself, and though it was slightly uncomfortable, he was still half-hard by the time he was finished.

Pulling his fingers out of himself, Kirk stood up, taking a moment to steady himself before walking to the door that opened to Spock's room. Opening the door, he saw Spock sitting naked on a mat, deep in meditation. However, when Spock sensed another person entering the room, his eyes snapped open and his head turned quickly toward Kirk. In an instant, Spock had Kirk pinned against the wall by his neck, a low growl bubbling in his throat. After a moment, Spock seemed to feel their half-bond through the contact, and he released his grip on Kirk's neck. The half-Vulcan pulled Kirk roughly toward him, using his superior strength to lift the human clear off the floor. Kirk's cock rubbed against the smooth skin of Spock's stomach, causing a needy moan to slip from his mouth. He was now fully erect; for some reason, Spock's show of dominance and strength was an incredible turn-on for him.

Spock carried Kirk over to the bed, throwing him toward the pillows before descending on him. He captured Kirk's lips in a rough kiss, pressing their bodies flush against each other. Their dicks were rubbing together, the slickness of Spock's allowing fluid strokes as they rutted against each other. Kirk opened his mouth to Spock's questing tongue and spread his legs wide so they could fit more closely together. Right now, despite his usual need for control of any situation, complete submission seemed very _natural _to Kirk. He just laid back, letting Spock plunder his mouth, arching into the burning hot touches, giving himself over completely to the other man.

When Spock released his mouth, Kirk gasped for breath. He looked down his body to see his erection sliding against Spock's—bright red along side olive green—and gasped at the half-Vulcan's size. He was at least a few inches longer than Kirk, who himself was rather large by Human standards; luckily for him, Spock's cock was rather slender. Kirk knew that girth would pose the greatest problem for him, since he was being taken for the first time. He released the breath he had only just became aware he was holding.

Spock rested his forehead against Kirk's, and the Human felt an overwhelming wave of primal lust seep through his very pores. Spock lifted his legs over his shoulders, and Kirk readied himself for what he knew was coming next, trying to relax himself as best he could. Spock pushed in, the first ridge on his cock slipping inside Kirk, and the Human's inner walls clamped down around him as Kirk gasped in pain. (The pain only made him appreciate more just what Spock had gone through for his pleasure.) Spock, however, did not stop, using his strength to push himself in to the hilt in one fast stroke, immediately pulling back out, setting a fast, rough pace. Kirk knew his ass would be black and blue by the time Spock was through with him.

Kirk's erection had long since wilted, but just as he thought that he was going to be overwhelmed by the pain of penetration, the ridges of Spock's dick rubbed over his sweet spot. Kirk moaned, his dick twitching and beginning to harden again; of course the pain was still there (nothing was going to change that), but the pleasure... the _pleasure_!

Kirk opened his eyes (When had he closed them?) when he felt Spock's hand against his face, the fingers pressing into what he knew were the meld points. Then, his mind was flooded with another consciousness, his mind instinctively reaching out to Spock's, gripping and caressing. He could feel Spock's pleasure; he felt like he was drowning in it. He felt as though he was penetrating and being penetrated at the same time; being impaled by inhuman heat and surrounded by soothing coolness. And even in the delirium of pleasure, he could fell the snap as his soul wove together completely with Spock's. He had nothing to compare the sensation to, but he knew—he just _knew—_that he had become fully bonded with Spock. He and Spock were as good as married, bonded together eternally; it was that thought, even more than the waves of pleasure from both himself and Spock, that made Kirk cum harder than he ever had in his life.

* * *

Yay! Done! Sorry folks, but that'll be the last of the sexy times for this story.

I'll start writing the Scotty/Chekov story soon so I can get that out around the time I'm finished with this one.

Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me through this story! Please review!


	12. A New Day: Kirk

Hey, sorry this took so long. I've had it done for about a week, but I wanted to post it with the epilogue. Yes, that means that the story is completely finished. There will be no more. But, I'll work as fast as I can to write the Scotty/Chekov story (which could be a while because I was stupid and took almost all AP courses this school year -_-;).

**Pairings:** Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** nothing bad this chapter

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_A New Day: Kirk_

* * *

When Kirk woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his entire body ached. His limbs felt like they were made of jell-o, and event he slightest movement of his lower half sent a stabbing pain shooting up his spine. His ass and thighs felt tender and swollen, and he was very glad that he was positioned on his stomach. He had expected there to be pain afterward; he and Spock had been fucking for God only knew how long. (Besides, he had lived through worse.) Kirk had also expected to be covered in cum, but apparently Spock had cleansed him of any bodily fluids.

Finally opening his eyes, Kirk looked to the other side of the bed. Spock was not lying next to him. He lifted his head to look around the room, but Spock was nowhere to be seen. With a great amount of effort, he scooted himself to the edge of the bed until he felt the floor under his feet. Keeping his hands on the bed to steady himself, Kirk stood up, nearly falling over, but managing to keep himself upright. Seeing that a thin robe had been set on the foot of the bed for him, Kirk hobbled over and put it on.

Kirk walked slowly out to the hall, leaning against the wall for support as he tried to navigate the building. Eventually, he came to a large, high-ceilinged room where Bones was sitting with the elder Spock at a low table.

Seeing Kirk limping into the room, Bones immediately ran to his side, putting a hand on the small of his back to lead him over to the sitting area. He guided Kirk to sit in one of of the more well-cushioned chairs.

Kirk hissed in pain. "Bones, help me back up. Sitting makes my ass hurt," he whined.

"Of course your ass hurts, Nimrod!" Bones exclaimed. "You've been in that room for _three days!_ I'm surprised you were even able to get out of bed!"  
"I've got to find Spock."

"You ain't doin' shit 'til I've looked you over!"

"But Bonesy..." Kirk complained.

"Jim, I believe it would be wise to let Doctor McCoy examine you," Spock cut in. "My younger self was distressed at seeing you in this state once he came back to himself. Once you have been healed sufficient, it should be fine for you to go see him. I believe you will find him in the courtyard."

"Thanks." Kirk smiled at the old Vulcan before Bones dragged him off to the room he had been given for his stay.

"Drop the robe and lie face down on the bed," Bones instructed as he dug through his bag for his medical tricorder and other equipment. Kirk did as he was told, wanting to be done with this so he could go find Spock. He heard a quiet "God_damn_" as Bones approached him.

"Just look at these bruises! What did he do? Paddle you?"

"Not that I recall," Kirk joked.

"Very funny," Bones growled. Kirk could see the scowl on his friend's face in his mind's eye. "Now—oh, Jesus, I can't believe I'm sayin' this to you!--spread your legs." Kirk tried—and failed—to hold in his laughter. His laughter immediately transformed into a gasp of pain when Bones spread his ass cheeks. "There's some tearing, but nothing _too_ serious," Bones said, shifting into "Doctor Mode." Kirk heard the beeping of the tricorder. "No fractures or internal bleeding. Any injuries appear to be superficial."

"That's good."

"You bet your ass it is!" Bones said as he ran the dermal-regenerator over Kirk's various cuts and bruises. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are? I asked the old hobgoblin more about this Pon Farr ordeal, and he told me that it is not uncommon for the submissive partner to be in critical condition by the end of it, and the number of deaths isn't exactly low either!"

"Why can't you ever look at the positive, Bones?" Kirk asked. "I'm fine. So can I go now?"

"Fine, whatever. But we're stayin' down here so you can rest until you're fully healed. And I don't care how fine you think you are, you are not to engage in any kind of sexual activity until I say so. Period."

"Alright, mother," Kirk mumbled.

"Git outta here before I add any more bruises to your collection," Bones growled.

Kirk didn't have to be told twice.

3 3 3

Just as the elder Vulcan had predicted, Kirk found Spock sitting on a bench in the middle of the courtyard, his back toward the entryway. As he approached the other man, Kirk was hit with a wave of guilt and self-loathing that became more intense as he got closer. He knew these were Spock's emotions, not his.

"Spock," he began quietly.

"I must apologize," Spock interrupted, his voice low and wavering.

"Wha--?"

"You put yourself through the blood fever just to save my life. You sacrificed a great deal for me, far more than any captain should ever have to give for their first officer; however, my life is not worth binding yourself to me when it is not what you desire. I am now a hindrance to you, a 'ball and chain,' as you Humans say."

"But Spock--"

"The bond can be broken if we act quickly, while it is still fragile. I believe that a capable mental healer is among the survivors."

"Dammit, Spock--"

"This incident can easily be buried in the recesses of you mind with the proper technique. The healer should also be able to accomplish this."

Kirk walked around th bench to stand in front of Spock, taking a hold of his head and forcing him to make eye contact. "How the hell am I supposed to tell you you're wrong if you won't let me finish a Goddamn sentence?" he asked, irritated.

"I do not understand."

"Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. Yes, I wanted to save your life! So that we could spend the rest of ours together! I _wanted_ to bond with you. I _want to be with you!_ I _love_ you! Can't you feel it?"

"Y-you must be mistaken," Spock stuttered, his face a picture of confusion. "You were disgusted when you awoke beside me."

"I was stupid!" Kirk all but yelled. "So _fucking stupid!_ I let us both get hurt because I couldn't accept certain things about myself. But now I can't just let us keep doing this to ourselves. I'll go through with the Vulcan marriage ceremony, Hell, I'll go through with a Human ceremony, too. Anything to show you that I really mean it!"

Spock promptly burst into tears.

* * *

There's a totally good explanation for Spock crying like a little girl. When I wrote this chapter, I was having certain "feminine problems", and I thought: "Hey, ya know what Pon Farr reminds me of..." So Spock is PMS-y/hormonal. More explanation in the epilogue.

Btw, I'm a bit disgusted with myself for how sappy this chapter and the epilogue turned out, so, ya know, you've been warned: there will be fluff.


	13. Epilogue: Spock

I just realized that I never put up a disclaimer, so here it is: I don't own anything from Star Trek. Please don't sue me, I'd die if I had to sell all my shoes to be able to pay up.

**Pairings: **Kirk/Spock (major), Scotty/Chekov (minor)

**Warnings:** none to speak of

* * *

**Dream Encounters**

* * *

_Epilogue: Spock_

* * *

Even now, three weeks, two days, sixteen hours and twenty-five minutes after the conversation with Jim, Spock was still ashamed of his emotional outburst. This was one of the times when he wished that he had been born fully Vulcan, so that he would lack tear-ducts. It was true that he had still been in an overly-emotional state due to the excess hormones that remained for several days after the Plak Tow, and the situation had been an overwhelming one, but he was ashamed none the less.

Jim, of course, was working to free him of his logical restraints and help him embrace his emotions, if only when they were alone together. He told Spock he loved him at least once a day, and whenever Spock returned the words, he was rewarded with a bright smile. Lately, Spock had found himself smiling back.

True to his word, Jim had joined with Spock in a Vulcan marriage ceremony, and despite Spock's repeated insistence that he had proved himself, Jim still wanted to go through with the Earth-style ceremony. He decided it would take place when they next stopped on Earth, and once he had brought Nyota in on his plan to help with the details, Spock knew that it would really be happening, whether he wanted it to or not. (He did.)

After returning to the _Enterprise_, Spock found that things aboard the starship were changing rapidly. Nyota, unlike most humans, was aware of just how much Jim had really done by bonding with him, and she had began treating the Captain with a new respect and kindness. (The fact that he had asked her to help with the wedding plans also seemed to work in Jim's favor.) And when Lieutenant Commander Scott and a few other engineers had combined Spock and Jim's adjacent quarters to accommodate a couple in just under a week, the crew had quickly been alerted of the nature of their relationship. Everyone, with the exception of the few very conservative crew members, seemed to approve. Even Doctor McCoy had grudgingly admitted that they suited each other well.

Currently, the _Enterprise _was docked at a star-base for supplies and to allow the crew a few days of rest. Jim and Spock had been spending almost all of their leave time together, having, at Jim's insistence, "dates" in the more formal restaurants aboard the space-station. Spock could not remember ever felling so content.

At the moment, he was sitting near Jim as he made a call to his mother on Earth. Spock smiled as he heard the first phrases he uttered.

"Hey, Ma. I know you're not gonna believe this, but I just got married."

* * *

And there be the fluff! It's almost too much for me, and I wrote it!

Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with me through the entire story, and I hope you all enjoyed it. More to come with the Scotty/Chekov spin-off. It'll be soon, I swear. I just can't get enough nerd-love in my life.

Bye, all!


End file.
